


Sore Loser

by CommanderFuzzy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Chess, F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, Fratboy Clarke, G!P, G!p Lexa, Omegaverse, Oral, Smut, Yeahhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderFuzzy/pseuds/CommanderFuzzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa play chess.<br/>Lexa looses, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sore Loser

**Author's Note:**

> So I jumped on the fine stud Lexa bandwagon and wrote this.  
> Damn it.  
> Also, Omegaversey. I like Lexa with a dick way to much.

It's a late Friday night, closing in on midnight when Lexa, finds herself sat cross legged on a stupidly expensive pillow on the floor, by floor to ceiling windows of her pent house, dressed in her work slacks, white shirt unbuttoned just enough, tie throw over the back of her brown leather sofa, face screwed up in concentration. Her girlfriend, Clarke Griffin, is also sat upon an equally plush pillow, bare, freshly shaved legs sprawled out before her, dressed in one of Lexa’s fine silk shirts, beats her at chess. Lexa can smell the sweet strawberries and cream bodywork and shampoo Clarke had used only an hour before in the shadowed, it was completely overpowering and a little distracting.

 

Sadly, no distracting enough for Lexa to realise she really was going to lose this game of chess. Clarke had all her pawns one of her Bishops and both rooks. 

 

_ This was ridiculous.This is unconceivable, _ the young CEO thought unhappily, since she was the top of her game in college, beating all the other boys with their square glasses and pocket squares. But now, now this blonde fratboyesque princess is taking her pieces, one by one. Each time with a little victorious cheer. Lexa couldn't help but scowl as Clarke scooped up one of her Knights, adding it to the perfect little lined up white pieces besides the board.   
  


The brunette is concerned that maybe, just maybe, Clarke has more intellect than just a fine painter. Maybe she is more then her match.   
  
The more Clarke wins, the more frustrated Lexa gets over it, rubbing her chin and frowning harder in concentration. Clarke, meanwhile, knows exactly what she’s doing. Having spent hours upon hours learning how to play with Wells just because she found out Lexa had an antique chess set sat in a box, unused or untouched.   
  


It took a few days, but Clarke finally got the knack of it. And now that she’s beating the super competitive CEO, the blonde is loving it. She’s also perfectly aware how distracting she’s being. Bare legs spread out either side of the board, the buttons of the silk shirt undone down to just before her cleavage, hair tousled more and more each time she runs her hand through it. She also knows that Lexa has noticed her clear lack of unless beneath the silk shirt.   
  
As Lexa’s forest green eyes flick up to meet Clarke’s baby blues, the blonde deliberately bites her bottom lip, her eyes hooded. Lexa let’s out an exasperated huff, throwing her hands in the air.   
  
Clarke’s had her in check mate for the last ten minutes. She gives in. The blonde has finally won something.   
  
Clarke gave another loud yell of triumph, jumping to her feet and doing one of those ridiculous victory dances which only makes Lexa huff harder,   
  
“Oh don’t be a sore loser!” Clarke laughs, launching herself at the CEO who’s pulling the best grumpy cat face Clarke had ever seen. Lexa practically screams as the blonde fills her arms, knocking them back against the polished wooden floor. Lexa wants to protest, she wants to complain that her dress shirt and slacks are going to get creased, be ruined by the wood wax on the floor. But Clarke’s giggle melts her heart, Clarke’s giggle makes her breath catch and her stomach flutter.   
  
Clarke’s hand tugging her crisp white shirt free of her trousers makes her taunting stomach muscles clench and her breath catch in a whole different manner. Lexa knows this is leading somewhere she could definitely win. 

 

The blondes nimble hands work up under Lexa's shirt, fingers tracing the contours of her hips, up to her toned stomach. The brunette can't stop her eyes fluttering as her stomach flips and flutters, her lowers beginning to throb. Clarke's hot mouth finds the CEO’s neck, latching on quickly with a grand of teeth and tongue. The blonde moves just enough to straddle Lexa's thigh, her hot sex rubbing against the fine material of Lexa's suit pants.

 

The brunette can feel the heat through the pants, dragging up and down her thigh, the blonde grinding down against her. This only spurs the heat in Lexa's stomach more, she can feel the growing need in her center, the straining of her pants already beginning. Lexa finds her hands slipping under the silk of her own shirt, gripping and kneading Clarke's bare rump rightly, fingers digging in just enough for the blonde to groan. 

 

Clarke's hands moved from Lexa's tight stomach, moving to fumble with the buttons of the elder woman's shirt. It doesn't take long for the blonde to get frustrated and just tug hard at the crisp material, ripping buttons free. Are spreads the shirt open, her mouth trailing sweet kisses and nips down between Lexa's hand full breasts. It's all too much for the brunette, her hips bucking, thigh pushing up against the wet heat of Clarke's core. 

 

The blonde chuckles against her girlfriend's skin, her mouth finally reaching Lexa's navel, tongue swirling around the dip before teeth find her hip bones. Clarke leaves a deep love bite there, setting the mark against Lexa's tanned skin as her hands begin to to unbuckle her belt. The click of zipper teeth brings Lexa's attention to the blondes head, her mouth is hovering over the distinct erection in her pants, the tight black brief she wears doing nothing to hide or stop it.

 

“Well, well. Defeat looks good on you,” Clarke practically purrs as she pushes her tongue against Lexa's wide head through the boxer shorts. Lexa whimpers in frustration. 

 

Clarke got her winning head on. She beats Lexa at chest and now she wants to beat her at a game Lexa's so good at.

 

The blondes hand presses against Lexa's shaft through her pants, running against her as she sucks the head into her mouth. Lexa grunts, hips rutting forward. It feels so good to her, but it's not the same. Not with her boxers in the way. Clarke hadn't even bothered to remove her slack, she just undid the front, which makes Lexa all the more frustrated. She practically fully clothes, and already ready to burst. 

 

Clarke hummed around the head of her cock, her cerulean blue eyes rolled up to watch Lexa's face twist in pleasure. Clarke loves this, the teasing, the waiting, knowing that she could just make her girlfriend come right then and there by slipping her out of the black Italian boxers and riding the thick ready cock if she wanted. But she was having too much fun.

 

With her free hand, Clarke snaked it between her own kegs, digit tips finding her clit, rolling it just the way she knew how. She moaned around the head, practically tasting the salty precum through the black material. Clarke's eyes fluttered shut as Lexa hips jutted forward again. 

 

“Please, fuck, please Clarke…” Lexa grunted, her strong hands shooting down to tangle into Clarke's already mussed hair. That was all the blonde needed, she moved her mouth just long enough to release Lexa's fine, thick erection through the boxer short hole. Her spare hand wrapped tightly around the base, stroking up the silky flesh as Clarke admired the finest of cocks.

 

Lexa was just right, just thick enough, just long enough for her. Even the slight curve to the right was perfect. A shudder rolled through the blonde as Lexa's dick throbbed in her hand, a moan of pleasure spilling from the CEO who was clearly lost to the pleasure now. Clarke's fingers pinched her own pearl, slipping down through her soaked folds, probing her own external as she dropped her warm mouth around the head again.

 

Lexa nearly lost it then and there as her girlfriends hot mouth descended onto her. She grunted and jolted upwards, sliding more of her throbbing length inside the blondes mouth. Lexa didn't care about the wood wax on her clothes, or how much the dry cleaners was going to cost, all she cared about was the building orgasm inside her. Everything was pushing to that point. The way Clarke's mouth suctioned around her, the. Way her tongue darted about, sliding along the underside of her shaft as her hand followed her mouth upwards, twisting and sliding against her.

 

“ _ Fuck”  _ Lexa whined, sending another jolt through Clarke. She loved it when Lexa cursed during their sex sessions. Sure when the CEO swore on the phone it was a nice little jolt, but when she was so lost in the moment, eyes closed, face slack with pleasure and the swears just rolled off her tongue, well it really got Clarke.

 

The blondes fingers were working deep within herself, curling and pumping as she dipped her head against the throbbing dick, paying attention to every last bit of Lexa's cock. She could feel the tenderness in the flesh, the tightness of the brunettes nails against her scalp.  _ So close, she's so close, _ Clarke told herself as she curled her fingers to the right spot inside again. Determined to cum when Lexa did. Which wouldn't be too long.

 

Lexa's back bowed as a low whine came free from her lips, her hips jumped forward, fingers tangling in the still damp blonde locks as her body tensed and released all at once. Clarke groaned as the hot spurts of Lexa's cum slid down her throat, she swallowed it with joy, letting the jets slip against her tongue.

 

Clarke's own inner was squeezed around her fingers as she tripped over the edge, falling full force into her orgasm. She moaned around Lexa's pulsing shaft, sucking hard to milk Lexa for all her worth as Clarke soaked her own hand to her wrist. The blonde leaned back, sitting back on her knees as the shoots of Lexa's orgasm trailed off. Clarke sighed happily, raising her fingers to her lips, prepared to taste her own honey,

 

“No,” Lexa demanded, pushing up to sit. The brunettes bright green eyes were hooded, sleepy. Her smile lazy, content, “That's mine,” the brunette crooned, reaching forward to pull Clarke's soaked fingers towards her own mouth. The blonde whimpered in fresh need as Lexa's tongue skid against her digits, lapping the blondes cum clean off her fingers.

  
“Can we play chess again?” Clarke asked, a teasing smile on her face.


End file.
